Sons of Angels

by Rachel Green

  “Is it down?” Meinwen asked, donning her cloak. “I know that’s the accepted direction, but Hell must be a big place. It surely can’t fit inside the earth.”

  “I assure you, it does,” said Jasfoup. “It’s just in a different metaphysical reality.” He held out his hand to her. “I like your hat. Very witchy.”

  “It’s a circlet.” Meinwen took his hand and stood next to him. “I took the bit about having stars around my head literally.”

  “Good idea.” Jasfoup sketched a design in the air.

  “Just a minute.” Felicia dashed out and picked some daisies. She thrust them into Meinwen’s hand. “Here. Remember the sunlight.”

  “Off we go.” Jasfoup drew a circle in the air. “Hold onto your stomach.”

  Felicia watched them vanish, her heart in her mouth.

  * * * *

  Though the journey took only a few heartbeats, those beats felt as if they lasted a week. Meinwen had never been so disoriented and sick in her life. She felt as if she were on a roller-coaster that never stopped going down. She wondered if she’d ever see her friends again. Or her brother. Her brother would never know what had happened to her if she died in Hell.

  “Here we are.” Jasfoup bowed, one hand outstretched. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Oh God!” Meinwen fell to her knees. “I’d hate to experience something you thought really was bad.”

  “Tut-tut-tut.” Jasfoup waved a finger. “We don’t say the G-word down here. It could cause offense.”

  “Wasn’t there an easier way of getting here? Something less vertical?”

  “We could have gone the long way round. We could have flown to Florence, opened up the Demeter’s Oracle and followed the Styx down, then worked our way past Minos and through all the other circles to get here. That would have taken months, though, and you wanted to be back in ten minutes.”

  “Point taken.” Meinwen stood bent at the waist, her head down as far as she could to encourage it to stop spinning. “Where are we exactly?”

  “We’re at the edge of Cocytus. I’m sorry about the Latin, but the last mortal here was Dante Alighieri, so it’s his names we use.”

  “The circle of traitors?” Meinwen looked out over a vast sea of ice so smooth that it had the appearance of glass. She pulled her cloak tight. “It’s cold. I always had the impression Hell was hot.”

  “It is for the most part, but ice burns just as cleanly.”

  “We have to get to the middle, I suppose?” Meinwen looked out over the sea of ice. “What’s that mountain in the center? Not Satan, surely.”

  “Yes and yes.” Jasfoup helped her onto the ice. “Mind the sinners.”

  “I thought Satan ran the place?”

  “Satan is a collective noun. Most people think it’s Lucifer in the middle, but it’s actually Shejaza.”

  “I’ve never heard of him.” She took Jasfoup’s arm to steady herself.

  “I’m not really surprised. He’s been here a long time. He was Azazel’s second in command and defied Azazel by sacking the city of Enoch and eating most of the inhabitants. As long as there’s a fallen angel in that position, the fellow upstairs doesn’t worry about who it is.”

  “Which bit of Cocytus is this?” Meinwen stepped over a man frozen face-up in the ice. “I’m a bit rusty on theology.”

  “This is Caina, the traitors to kindred. Named after Cain, of course, though he hasn’t arrived here yet.”

  “Why? Does he have to complete the punishment for murder first?”

  “Murder? No.” Jasfoup laughed. “Manslaughter at best. How can you murder someone when you have no experience of death? No one had died before Cain killed Abel, so he didn’t know hitting him with a stick would end his brother’s life. Besides, he’s not being punished because he hasn’t died yet, though I’d rather you kept that to yourself.”

  “He’s still alive? He must be ancient by now.”

  Jasfoup shrugged. “No one’s seen him for years. He’s a nephilim too, remember. Harold’s half-brother, in fact.”

  “You’re having me on.”

  “No, honestly. I could be lying, but I’m not. Watch your step. You almost broke Richard the Third’s nose. That’d be treason. The princes in the tower would cry.”

  “Wasn’t it Henry Tudor who killed the princes in the tower?”

  “Who can say?” Jasfoup looked down. “Apart from him, obviously. If it was him, he’d have got away with it but for Shakespeare rattling off his charms.” He helped Meinwen past.

  She looked down at the cold flesh of the damned king and his eyes moved beneath the frozen eyelids as if he knew she was above him, looking down. She stumbled backward, and would have slipped on the glassy surface, had Jasfoup not still gripped her arm. The wind sliced through her clothes and sent stinging particles of ice into her face.

  “Ugh.” She wrapped the cloak even tighter. “The wind’s picked up.”

  “It thinks we’re damned souls in the wrong place.” Jasfoup pulled her in close to shield her. He felt warm. “Let’s get a move on.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” Meinwen pulled her hood up. “There’s the edge of this circle. Let’s hurry.”

  Jasfoup led her to the lee of the ridge, where the wind lessened. “At least I’m not seeing the damned in torment.” She paused to get her breath back. “I was worried I’d be forced to witness all sorts of horrors.”

  “No, it’s not too bad here.”

  Meinwen looked out across the next section. “The ice isn’t as smooth ahead,” she said.

  Jasfoup dragged her onward. “No.” He stubbed his toe on a protruding head and swore. “This is the Antenora, after the Trojan who betrayed his city to the Greeks. It’s the punishment of those who were traitors to their country to be buried up to the neck in the ice.”

  “Would there be anybody I know here?”

  “That depends upon how many traitors you’re acquainted with.” Jasfoup grinned. “Mostly these are veterans who gave away secrets for personal gain, though there are a few politicians here as well.”

  “Can we pick up the pace a bit? I’m freezing. How long have we been here?”

  “About a year, perhaps a little longer.” Jasfoup smiled. “Don’t worry. Time is different here.”

  “This must be Ptolomea.” Meinwen crossed a second ridge of ice and stared out. “Only the faces of those interred here protrude above the surface.”

  “That’s right.” Jasfoup led her onward. “Even their eyes are covered with ice.”

  “What are the crimes of these souls?”

  “Traitors to their guests. There’s Norman Bates and over there, Basil Fawlty.”

  Meinwen laughed, the first such sound that had been heard there for centuries. “You’re having me on. That’s a fictional character.”

  “Is it?” Jasfoup shrugged. “I saw him on the telly. If he wasn’t fictional, he’d be here.”

  “He’s not even dead yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Their shades are pulled here while they still live.”

  “That’s hardly fair. What if they want to redeem themselves?”

  Jasfoup frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s ever happened.” He started forward again. “Come on. One more circle and we can get you home again.”

  “What’s this one?” Meinwen had to shout over the noise of the gale that threatened to force them backward.

  “Judecca.” Jasfoup raised his voice against the wind. “Traitors to their benefactors are interred here without so much as a hair above the ice.”

  “Apart from that one.” Meinwen pointed at a six-inch protuberance. “Who’s that?”

  “Pinocchio.” Jasfoup extended a wing to keep the wind off her. “He became a real live boy, remember?”

  “You’re having me on!” Meinwen scraped away some of the ice to look down upon the spirit of the puppet. “This is ridiculous. You’re making a mockery of the whole idea of Hell.”

  �
�What do you care? You don’t even believe in it.”

  “How can I not, after being dragged here?” Meinwen dropped to her knees and sobbed. “All my adult life I’ve thought what a ridiculous notion Hell was, and here you are dragging me through the place. How can I not believe in it?”

  “It’s not the belief that matters. It’s to whom you give your allegiance.”

  “I turned my back on all this. I’m no better than these people.”

  “Get up.” Jasfoup tugged at her arm. “We have to press on.”

  “What’s the point?” Meinwen looked down at her legs, where ice was already covering them. “I deserve to be here.”

  “No, you don’t.” Jasfoup kicked at the ice. “You belong in the lands of your Goddess, where the sun shines. Not here in the perpetual twilight of ice.” He removed his sunglasses and took her face in his hands. “Look in your pocket.”

  Meinwen thrust her hand into her cloak and drew out the daisies Felicia had given her. They were as fresh as the moment her friend had picked them. “That’s right.” She held them up to him. “Look! Summer.”

  She stared at the white petals for a moment and stood, the ice melting and flowing away from her. “I don’t belong here.” She scattered the flowers and ran to the next ridge.

  “I can’t go any farther.” Jasfoup stared at the plain of unbroken ice. “This is the circle of traitors to God. Angels and demons alike would freeze on this ice.”

  Meinwen nodded. “How far do I need to go?”

  Jasfoup put his glasses on again. “Farther than an angel can fly before his wings freeze. Then throw the damned fetiche as far as you can toward the middle.”

  Chapter 41

  Felicia sank into one of the pine chairs in the bookshop’s kitchen. The place was becoming more familiar then her own flat these days. It was odd to think their relationship had only been proprietor and tenant a few days ago. Now they were firm friends. At least, she hoped they were. He was part demon, after all.

  “I’m glad you came back with us, actually.” Harold, true to form, was putting the kettle on again and clearing away the now-cold cup of unsweetened tea.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I have a proposal for you.” Harold clicked his fingers to summon Devious. “We need sugar. Somebody ate it all.”

  “Not me.” Jasfoup glared at the imp. “But pick up milk and dog food while you’re out.”

  “Dog food?” Felicia looked around. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “In case you get hungry.”

  “Oh, very funny.” Felicia scowled. “Could I have coffee, Harold? I’m not partial to tea.”

  “Best get coffee as well, Devious.” Harold picked up the sugar bowl and began to wash it out. Devious vanished through his gate.

  “You didn’t give him any money.”

  “He doesn’t need any. He’s more than capable of getting what we need.”

  “But that’s dishonest.” Felicia frowned. “Okay, I know I’m talking to a demon and the son of Lucifer, but still...”

  “Still, what?” Jasfoup raised his eyebrows. “Theft fulfills two basic needs, greed and avarice. It’s like killing two birds with one stone.”

  “Only without the birds and the stone.” Harold heated the teapot. “Obviously, we don’t advocate harming any avian species in particular.”

  “Except when roast potatoes are involved.”

  “You two are a double act.” Felicia took a deep breath. “What was your proposal, Harold? I ought to warn you I’m strictly a girl’s girl.”

  “Nothing like that. As you may know, I’m a master magician.”

  “Magician, anyway.” Jasfoup winked at her. “You’re a master at something else entirely.”

  “My point,” Harold glared at the demon, “is I have access to a vast number of magical spells and formulae and spent this morning researching something.”

  “You mean you played Apocalypse on your computer while John and I did the actual research.” Jasfoup leaned against the sink unit.

  “Anyway,” Harold touched Felicia’s hand, “I’ve compiled a series of spells to alter your DNA and make you mundane again. It’s a little complicated and there may be some pain involved.”

  “We split you into your component molecules and use the charm of separation to remove the wolfie bits.” Jasfoup smiled helpfully. “You can be your old self again.”

  “I wouldn’t have put it quite that bluntly.” Harold frowned at him. “The point is, if you want to be human again, you can be. That goes for your sister too, although she’d lose the child in the transformation. What do you say?”

  Felicia was stunned into silence and looked from the man to the demon. “I can just go back to being normal?”

  Harold shrugged. “I can’t guarantee normality, but I can turn you back into the woman you once were.”

  Devious’s return gave Felicia a few more moments to make a decision. Harold set him to making the tea.

  “I can’t say I’m not tempted. It’s only been a week and already I’m tired of being afraid for my life, but could I just go back? I don’t think so. I’ve got used to living this lifestyle too quickly.” Felicia touched Harold’s hand. “I rather like having friends I can rely on as well.” She shrugged. “I can’t speak for Julie, but I want to stay as I am. I’ve a lot to learn yet.”

  “I told you.” Jasfoup wagged a finger at Harold. “I said that all that research was a waste of time.”

  “It’s not a waste of time. We can save lives with that research if we catch them early enough.”

  Felicia leaned forward. “How early is early?”

  “Before Puriel finds them.”

  Devious placed three cups of tea and a cup of coffee on the table. Harold added sugar and managed a sip before Delirious appeared with Wrack in tow.

  “Sir!” His hooves clattered across the table. “She’s having it.”

  “What?” Harold almost spilled the tea. “She’s having what? And who?”

  “The baby!” Wrack danced from hoof to hoof. “Julie’s having the baby.”

  “What?” Felicia stood, knocked the table and almost spilled the drinks. “But it’s only been two days.”

  “Demon nephilim.” Jasfoup nodded to himself. “That must make it quicker than normal, even for a nephilim child.” He summoned his portal and vanished.

  “I’ve got to be there as well.” Felicia picked up her purse. “She’ll need me.”

  “I’ll just stay here and look after the shop, shall I?” Harold called after them. “I’ll probably just be in the way.”

  * * * *

  “It’s very tight.” Felicia ran her hand over Julie’s stomach. “Hard too.”

  “That was roughly our conversation before I got pregnant.” Julie said.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Jasfoup peered over Felicia’s back. “I thought they just popped out when they were done.”

  “She’s not an oven.” Felicia looked at Julie’s sweat-damp face. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m in agony.” Julie’s teeth were clamped together. “What do you think?”

  “We need a doctor.” Felicia pulled out her phone. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Jasfoup plucked her phone out of her hand. “She’s carrying demon spawn, remember? What do you think a hospital would say when they delivered that?”

  “He has a point.” Julie clutched her arm, her words coming in gasps. “We can’t go to a hospital.”

  “We’ve got to do something.” Felicia pressed her hand over the bump. “That just isn’t going to come out the normal way and I’m not going to attempt a caesarean with no medical training.”

  “You have to.” Jasfoup gripped her shoulder. “Look at her. She’s going to die if you don’t do something.”

  “I can’t.” Felicia was on the verge of screaming. “If she was a werewolf she’d heal, but she’s not.” She leaned over Julie. “Isn’t there a spell or
something you could use?”

  “No.” Julie gasped. “There was nothing in the book even remotely applicable to this situation.”

  “Spells!” Jasfoup clapped her on the back. “That one Harold was talking about, the charm of separation. Could we use that?”

  “How should I know?” Felicia raised her voice to cut through the demon’s enthusiasm. “I don’t know anything about spells.”

  “Harold does.” Jasfoup clicked his fingers to summon Devious from the shop. “Tell Harold to come as soon as he can. We need his skill at magic.”

  “This is a baby.” Felicia glared at the demon. “It’s hardly the same thing as stripping away DNA. It’s part of her. How can you separate one from the other?”

  “There must be a way.” Jasfoup tapped his cheek with his forefinger. “I just don’t know how. Harold’s the one who thinks of practical uses for spells.”

  “Just do something.” Julie groaned. “I feel like it’s splitting me in two. This is all your fault, you and your latex stockings.”

  “This has never happened before.” Jasfoup rushed to hold her hand. “I didn’t expect this.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Julie pulled her hand away. “How many nephilim have you fathered?”

  “Just this one.” He looked sheepish. “I’ve never been genetically compatible before.”

  “We have to do something.” Felicia mopped her sister’s face with a damp cloth. “She can’t stay like this for long.”

  “I don’t know what. Mortal birth is a mystery to me. Oh, I know my anatomy.” Jasfoup caught Felicia’s stare. “But I’ve only been witness to it once, and that one came out like a prawn from a pastry case.”

  “I’ve got to call an ambulance.” Felicia brushed a stray hair from her face. “Where’s that breeze coming from?”

  “Breeze?” Jasfoup looked at Julie. “It’s coming from her. She’s opening a portal to the dead.”

  “Why?” Felicia shook her sister. “Julie! What are you doing?”

  Her sister said nothing, her head lolling to one side.

  “They’re pulling her in.” Jasfoup grabbed on to her arms. “Stop her from dying.”

  “How?” Felicia’s face pinched in anguish.